Kim Barnas

The doctor entered with a comforting bedside manner. We small talked. She asked about my work and I answered, in short. “Lean? You mean that Toyota thing?” In spite of the mask, I could read ‘Oh Brother’ on her face. “Yeah, we tried that here.” I had just sat for twenty minutes in a small waiting room with three other people, one of whom kept coughing, even though I’d timed my arrival to avoid exactly that. And soon, the doctor and an assistant would spend five minutes searching for a pack of ice.